


Father Time

by FastPuck



Series: Father Time [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:25:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FastPuck/pseuds/FastPuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looked up at your car, found you through the passenger window, stared through his sunglasses. You got out quickly and went over to him. He was very still as he watched you approach. "Hello, David." His mouth twitched at the name; you were the only one who called him that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uh. I'm not a "writer" but. I wrote this.  
> Mad props to tumblr user candymushroom for coming up with the ship name Father Time! And to everyone on tumblr for encouraging me and letting me become the patron saint of Dad/Dave hahaheeheehoohoo.

It seemed odd that you were picking up your son's friend without being asked to. It seemed even odder that, when you pulled up to the apartment building, your son's friend was already sitting outside, head down and backpack stuffed full.

He looked up at your car, found you through the passenger window, stared through his sunglasses. You got out quickly and went over to him. He was very still as he watched you approach. "Hello, David." His mouth twitched at the name; you were the only one who called him that.

"Hey, Mr. Egbert." His voice sounded hoarse, like he hadn't spoken for a long time, or had been yelling for longer. You smiled down at him, trying not to be obvious about looking him over for bruises. You didn't see any, but were you really expecting to? You never managed to unravel the mystery of David's home life, not even when you spoke to his guardian on the rare occasions that he came to pick David up from your house after a long weekend with John.

You hardly knew a thing about the Striders, but you felt a strong urge to protect the youngest one. It couldn't really be because he reminded you of your own son-- no, John and David were almost polar opposites. If you were to sit and really think about why you wanted to see young David safe and happy, the answers you'd find may be too much for you to handle. So you tucked that down and concerned yourself only with making sure David's time at your house with your son was as enjoyable as possible. You were always happy to see him enjoying the food you'd cook, from breakfast right down to dessert. Before you knew it weekends were more special than they'd ever been, with David around. 

Slowly, David stood up. It was Friday, and almost dinnertime. "Can I come over tonight?" You'd have to whip up something quick. You were sure there was still some broccoli and potatoes in the refrigerator, perhaps you could pick up a chicken to roast with that. David didn't break eye contact.

"Would you like to stay for the weekend? I'm sure John would love that."

David seemed to almost sway on his feet. His head bowed, and you watched his bangs shift. You thought he was about due for a haircut, but maybe David liked his hair that length. Maybe you did too.

"If that's cool with you."

"Of course it is. You're always welcome at the Egbert house, David."

You found your hand on his shoulder, and it was almost shocking how quickly David seemed to curl into you. His skinny arms wrapped around you, barely curled around your back. You tried to ignore how warm he was, and how different it felt from hugging John. There was a hurt there, somewhere, inside David.

You didn't know why it was there, or who created it. You did know that you wanted to help heal it.

You ushered David into the car, buckled him in, smiled wryly at his chuckle. You couldn't help yourself.

Around midnight, after the boys were safely asleep in John's room (or not, boys will be boys), you sat in the den, listening to the darkness. You asked it questions, and the answers sounded like David's soft voice.

 


	2. Chapter 2

David was not a boy anymore.

You didn't know how it happened, but somehow years slipped by and the safety of his youth gave way to dangerous maturity. David was growing up tall and lean, a fine complement to John's stockier, hardier frame. They were both strong young men, and you were proud.

You felt old.

Soon the time came for your sons-- no, your son and  _his friend_ \-- to go to college. You helped them move into their first dorm, you hugged both of them goodbye. You drove home and tried to forget how good it felt to have David in your arms. You did not touch yourself.

You did.

The boys came home for Thanksgiving. John brought his girlfriend, and David came alone, an hour later. He made a joke about being fashionably late, but you thought he may have just stopped by his brother's apartment first. You still weren't quite sure about the older Strider, but it seemed that perhaps he and David were not on bad terms as you once thought. You made sure everyone ate at least two helpings of everything.

The night wore on and John disappeared into the living room with his girlfriend. You watched them from the doorway, perhaps a bit too wistfully. David appeared beside you.

"Fancy a smoke, Mr. Egbert?" He surprised you completely and you agreed instantly.

He stepped out onto the porch with you, leaned against the wood railing with a cigarette between his lips. You wondered if he picked up the habit in college, or if he had just been hiding it from you until now. Against your better judgment you offered David a light, and in the flicker of tiny flame you watched his long neck, the cant of his head as he leaned into you, his lips around the cigarette, his fingers as they held yours steady (they're not trembling,  _they're not_ ) as the match caught the tobacco. 

There was a long silence between you, and you watched the barely visible smoke of your pipe mingle with David's. Your eyes were starting to lose some of their sharpness and you couldn't see him that well in the darkness. 

You'd never felt older.

David looked at you, head tilted and bare neck almost distracting you from his question, "So, little Johnny's got a girl. Can you believe it?"

You laughed softly. "She looks very sweet. I'm happy for John." You swallowed, and drew from your pipe again to fill the pause while you considered asking about David's love life. You decided to hell with it. "How about you, David? Any lucky lady you've got your eye on?" It sounded much less like a fatherly joke and much more like a suggestive advance to you.

David's laugh was quiet and deep and you wanted to keep it forever. "Nah, not for me." He took a long drag from his cigarette, and you tried very hard not to watch every second of his exhale. There was a sudden tension in David's shoulders. "Ladies... don't exactly do it for me."

There was a moment then where you felt like dancing, like crying, like running very far away. You tried to remain impassive. "I see. Well, there's nothing wrong with that."

You were silent for one small eternity. David relaxed again, and he flicked ash into the damp grass over the railing. "Thanks." You were sure David could hear your heartbeat and you suddenly felt too close to him. You almost forgot to breathe when David inquired about your own romantic pursuits. 

You managed to release a small wry laugh. "I think I may be too old for dating, now." And you thought it was true: you didn't have the fit frame you used to, you were starting to gray, you felt tired when you thought about remarrying. "I can't imagine trying to get back into that after all this time." 

David shifted to face you, and gave you an appraising look that gave you sharp feelings you almost couldn't cover. "You sure? I think if I were an older woman I'd be all over you." He smirked and you felt hot. It occurred to you, not for the first time, that the real reason you never pursued a relationship after your first wife was because that void felt full with both John and David in your life.

But now you realized it was empty again, and you were lonely and hungry and you didn't want to admit it. Especially not to someone less than half your age. Especially not David.

"Well, I'm quite flattered, David, but...." a much too nervous laugh escaped you, and David nodded and turned out to face the dark lawn and driveway, shadows spilling out into the street. The lamps by your house needed to be repaired. 

"Y'know, I gotta admit something." You realized you still hadn't moved far enough away from David when he bumped his shoulder lightly against you. It felt familiar, and entirely too intimate. "I really kinda missed hanging out here." You wanted to hug him, you felt ashamed to want it. Here was this young man, barely grown up and on his first steps into the outside world as an adult, and you wanted to keep him beside you like a young trophy wife. 

No. Not like that at all. You felt disgusted with yourself for even thinking of David in such a way. You wanted nothing more than to see him safe and happy, you wanted him to smile in his own imperceptible way, you wanted him to chase his dreams, however silly or strange or ironic, you wanted him to find love, you wanted him to live a beautiful, fulfilling life.

You wanted him.

David looked up at you with his elbows propped on the railing. It was tempting to let your eyes wander down his spine, but you resisted. You realized you hadn't replied yet. "I really miss you too." Your voice sounded unfamiliar.

David's lips quirked. You realized your mistake too late and hastily recovered.

"You and John both."

The ash had been slowly consuming Dave's cigarette, and it was almost completely spent. He took one last pull, moved from his perch and ground it out in the ornate iron ashtray you leave by the door. 

"We just gotta make the most of our visits now, huh." You dearly wished you could see his eyes as he turned and headed back inside. You settled for looking at the rest of him as he left.

It got late and your son hugged you goodnight. The two of you showed John's girlfriend into the guest room, and bade her sweet dreams. You really did like her, and hoped to see her again.

You went back downstairs and David was cleaning off the stray dishes that wouldn't fit into the dishwasher. Your heart wrenched painfully in your rib cage. "Will you be staying the night as well?" You hoped he would, you hoped he wouldn't.

David shrugged, drying off the last dish-- the serving bowl for the fruit salad. He put it in the exact right place it belonged. You were admittedly surprised; you hadn't really realized that David knew where everything was in the house, and where it all went back. He was as much family to you as John. And yet he was not family at all.

"I dunno. I don't think Bro's expecting me back tonight." 

"Will you be sleeping in John's room, or taking the couch?" Your mind brought up memories of the boys sleeping in blanket and pillow forts in the living room. It brought a fond sort of ache to your chest.

"I'll probably take the couch. Kinda too big to share a bed with John these days." You both shared a laugh (more you than him) and you went to retrieve some spare blankets and a pillow from the linen closet.

You came back to David sitting in the center of the couch, elbows propped on his knees and hands laced together. His head was bowed a little and his shades were on the coffee table. You hesitated. "David?" His head moved up, turned so he could look at you through his peripherals. "Is everything okay?"

David let out a small breathy laugh, your favorite one, and nodded. "Yeah, totally cool." He got up to take the blankets from you, and his fingers were cool on your hands. "Thanks, Dad."

You both stopped breathing. You made the mistake of making eye contact. David's eyes were so clear and unguarded and you had never seen anyone so terribly beautiful. Color rose in his cheeks, just a little, maybe you were imagining it, and you tossed the pillow on the couch and wrapped your arms around him. David flinched and you felt wonderful and horrible as his head tucked perfectly against your neck. You kissed his hair. You didn't want to let him go. You eventually did.

"Goodnight, David." You left him and turned off the kitchen lights, and the back door light, and the hallway light, and left the ground floor in darkness except for the lamp next to the couch. 

You got yourself ready for bed, and tried to sleep.

You couldn't.

You wondered if David could.

You hoped he did.

There was a creak at your bedroom door at nearly three in the morning. You opened your eyes but you couldn't see much anyway. A slim shape seemed to stand above you, and you weren't sure if the shape knew you were awake or not, if its sight was any better than yours. A thin hand reached out for you, stopped, pulled back. You wished it would touch you. The hand tried again, and it touched the hair at your temple, where a long streak of gray interrupted the darkness. Fingers combed through your hair, to the back of your head. You shifted slightly, eyes closing as you moved to lay on your back. The hand recoiled sharply, and you thought it had disappeared entirely.

You started to doze again when something soft touched your lips, pressed lightly, and moved away. David kissed you again and let his fingers just barely touch your jaw, your chest. If this was a dream you wanted to never wake up.

You reached up to touch David's cheek, and you thought you heard a pinched whine. You kissed him back. You opened your mouth under him and he seemed to be clutching you for dear life. You were warm and he was hot and you were stoking a fire inside the both of you. A hand slid down your chest, over the blankets covering you. Your guts twisted and you kissed a little harder. You still couldn't see a thing in the darkness. 

David stopped leaning over you and slid onto the bed, knees dipping the mattress on either side of you. His breath came short and shallow, and if you were more awake you would notice how it almost sounded like quiet sobbing. You wrapped your arms around his small waist. David's fingers gripped your shoulders, then softened immediately, as if he were somehow afraid that grasping too hard would wake you. Maybe it would. 

You found David's mouth again, kissing him slowly. Your tongues slid against each other and you felt simultaneously amazing and disgusting. You held David close against you, felt his heart beating rhythmically. 

Eventually you must have fallen asleep, or gone into a deeper dream. You stopped feeling David's warm body above you. 

Morning came and at seven you rose groggily. You remembered your troubling dreams as you trudged downstairs to the kitchen to brew your morning coffee.

You stopped when you saw David sitting on the counter, sipping a small glass of orange juice. He had his sunglasses back on, and you felt a tiny urge to throw them out the window.

Instead you went about setting up the coffee maker on autopilot. David looked a little tense to you. Then again, you weren't exactly very sharp before coffee. Perhaps it was just your imagination.

"Good morning David."

David drained his glass. "Morning, Mr. Egbert." He slid off the counter slowly and deliberately. He rinsed out his glass and left it in the sink.

"Would you like some coffee?" You turned to face him now that the pot was slowly starting to fill.

You watched David tilt his head very slightly. With the sunlight peeking through the windows, it almost looked like his face was a little redder than usual.

"Sure."

You both sat quietly at the kitchen table, and watched the sun light up the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may or may not be the end. if i do write more (and that is a huge if) i will amend! thank you for reading! i love you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe i wasn't done with this story after all! i'm back with a fat monster of a chapter that's more than twice the size of the last two chapters combined.

The day before New Year's Eve, John came home. You made sure the house was as clean as it could be, despite having been busier than ever with work. You would hesitate to admit you had been burying yourself in your job lately, perhaps to distract yourself from the emptiness of your home. Coworkers would laugh knowingly, calling you "empty-nester." On the upside, you had lost a little weight. Too bad it wasn't from good diet and exercise.

But John was home again and you hugged him tight. Dinner was on the table and you got all caught up in John's college life since his last visit. There was a tightness in his smile when you asked about his girlfriend.

"We... we broke up."

Your John was a sensitive young man, and you tried to give him a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry, son."

"It's okay, Dad. There'll be others, I guess." His returning smile was a little more genuine this time. You felt a small surge of pride; your son was so very good, and kind, and intelligent, and strong. Someday he would find someone to share his life with, and you hoped to be there to witness it. You told him that.

"Hehe, aw jeez, Dad. You're such a sentimental guy." He grinned, and you laughed.

"Sentimental is my middle name."

You finished your dinner in a comfortable silence.

New Year's Eve arrived, and over breakfast John informed you that David would be coming that afternoon. "He had some stuff to finish at school when I came down, and I think he's gotta stop off at Bro's for some things." You nodded along.

"Perhaps we should do something special tonight." John was grinning, one step ahead of you.

"Yeah! Is Paganini's still doing that New Year's special thing? We could go there!" The excitement in his voice was infectious.

"I'll call and ask if they have any spaces still open." You rose from your seat, taking your empty plate to the sink.

"I hope they do!" John rose too, but went to scrape the last of the eggs and bacon onto his plate, going for Breakfast: Round 2. You smiled over at John inhaling his food. Such youthful energy. You hoped he was eating enough while he was at school.

You hoped David was, as well.

The sun slowly, subtly warmed the house, and you finished doing the laundry that had been waiting for you all week. You couldn't remember which culture you'd heard had this tradition to not go into the new year with dirty laundry, but you thought it was sound advice and adopted it for yourself.

In the middle of afternoon reading, John perked up in his chair at the sound of tires up the driveway. He hastily closed his laptop and placed it almost-gently on the coffee table (you nudged it with your foot before it toppled off the edge) and went to fling open the door. Your heart was seizing in your chest as you tried to remain nonchalant about waiting for the boys to come inside together.

John was always a very affectionate boy, and as you watched him come back through the doorway with David's shoulders held fast under his arm and a wide smile on his face, you felt like they really were brothers. Your heart hurt.

David's hair was getting a bit long in the front, half-obscuring his scratched sunglasses. To this day you still did not quite understand their purpose, but at least you'd long since stopped trying to get him to remove them indoors. You supposed if you wore your hat inside sometimes, he could leave his shades on.

"Welcome back, David."

There was a small smile tugging at David's mouth as he regarded you. "Hey, Mr. Egbert."

John commandeered the conversation, and got David up to speed on the evening's plans. You had managed to secure a table at the restaurant for eight thirty, thanks to a lucky last-second cancellation. You were looking forward to taking the two of them to dinner. You were  _looking_  at David, and you couldn't stop.

You suddenly noticed a tiny glint inside David's mouth as he spoke to John. Was that...?

Good God.

"David, is that... a tongue piercing?"

He turned to you then, and you could almost see his eyes through his dark lenses. He grinned at you, "Yeah." He stuck his tongue out so you could see it. "Got it for my birthday."

You had never felt such conflicting feelings of fatherly disapproval and inappropriate excitement.

You tried to keep your voice light. "It's... very you."

David flipped his bangs in a way that reminded you of his teenage years. Instantly your feelings were drowned again by the fact that you watched this boy grow up. You'd been there for ten birthdays in a row. The only one you had missed since John met him was his twentieth. You felt very, very old.

But David was still so precious to you.

John helped David bring his things inside, and set him up in the guest room (that practically belonged to him). You all passed the time together in the living room, watching television and waiting for your reservation. You were making a conscious effort not to blatantly watch David. He made that quite difficult, however, since your eyes were instinctively drawn to him every time he stretched his long legs, or gestured when he spoke, or laughed, or pushed his hair back with slender fingers. He seemed... incredibly relaxed when he was here.

You remembered a number of times in the past when David would come over unannounced, breathless or tired or rain-soaked. Usually you would be just coming home from work when he showed up on the doorstep. You'd let him in without question, and he would go up to John's room, and they would hole up in there for hours.

Much later John would tell you that sometimes he and David would talk together on the computer, and John, your perceptive boy, would get the feeling that something was wrong, and would invite David over. You couldn't be mad at such noble intentions, but you did ask him to warn you first when you were there.

Over the years David had become a strange combination of "son's best friend," "teenage rebel," and "stray cat you were afraid to pet," and you really weren't sure what to make of it. At times he was happy and carefree (as well as one could be with his face covered up by sunglasses and a self-made wall of false indifference). Other times he seemed like he would shatter at any second.

You were at least grateful that he was happy in your home. You didn't think you would ever really learn what was going on inside David when he wasn't with you-- no,  _with John_.

It was troubling how often you had to remind yourself that you were just "John's dad."

At last the time came to get ready to head out for dinner. You tried not to think too hard about what to wear. You settled on dark clothes and a silver tie, and slipped a black fedora on. You were secretly very glad they had come back in style among the younger generation. It made you feel, dare you say, cool.

You passed David in the hallway. He gave you an appreciative whistle, and you weren't sure whether to be shocked or flattered. You were both. "Slick." His voice had deepened so much it was downright sultry.

At the top of the stairs you looked back. "Get ready to go, David." He was still looking at you. He smirked and slunk into the guest room.

John was by the door already when you came down, trying to appear casual but just being earnestly happy. He looked handsome and young in his hoodie and sport coat. "You're certainly ready," you said with a smile. You pointed to his chest. "But you've got something..."

John looked down. Boink! Right in the nose. "Hahaha! Oh my god, Dad, wow! I cannot believe I fell for that." He rubbed his nose and stifled his laughter.

"You're getting rusty."

"Oh my god, that was really cute." You both turned to see David at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed and a smirk tugging at his lips. He always moved so silently, it was easy for him to sneak up on people. Or perhaps hide from people.

John punched David's shoulder affectionately, and they engaged a brief slap-fight. You couldn't help laughing at the both of them. "Alright, children, enough horsing around. We're going to be late to dinner. Everyone in my car, go!" You shooed them both out the door. You flipped the porch light on, locked the door, and took the boys out for the last night of the year.

The restaurant was crowded and lively and you had a hard time picking out voices. Actually, you just had a hard time hearing David. John's cheerful voice managed to float above the din, while David's hovered in the flat bass line, lost under noise of everyone else. You ended up watching his mouth when he spoke, which worked out just fine. That tiny speck of silver was incredibly distracting, and you really hoped that wasn't his foot ghosting up your leg every now and then.

You knew it was.

This boy was infuriating.

By ten o'clock you were all getting restless, and it was becoming quite obvious that the three of you lacked the patience to wait around for two more hours for the official New Year's celebrations. You paid for dinner (you had to swat John's hand away, this was  _your_  treat to  _them_ ) and sipped the last of your post-meal coffee while the waitress came to collect the check.

John stood and stretched, cracking his joints even though you used to always tell him not to. He must have picked the habit up again while he was away. A voice cut through the excited air, calling, "John! John is that you?" His head swiveled to look across the room, and a grin broke out on his face. He wove his way through tables and staff to a group of people who looked as young as he did. They must have been old friends from high school, back in town for the holidays.

David laughed but you couldn't hear it. "He's still as popular as ever."

The waitress came back with your receipt and you thanked her. As the two of you collected your jackets and rose, John slipped back over to your table. "Dave, Veronica and Tracy are here! Well, they're here with Eric and Karif, but you should come say hi! You wanna?"

David looked at you before answering. You put your hat on. "I don't mind if you guys want to catch up with some friends. I can go." You understood wanting to be around people your own age, especially when they were friends you hadn't seen in a long time. You tried not to compare that with not seeing David in a long time.

But he shook his head at John, shoving his hands in his pockets (you weren't sure how he could even fit them in those tight jeans). "Nah, I'm pretty tired. Not really up to playing catchup. Give Tracy my number and tell her to text me though, would ya?"

John looked a little exasperated, but he just rolled his eyes with a smirk. "God, alright, I'll be your messenger." He turned to you, and you remembered you weren't supposed to feel relieved that David was choosing to go with you instead of John. "Is it cool if I stay? I probably won't be back until after midnight, haha."

You smiled knowingly. "Of course, son. Just make sure you're home for breakfast. You'll be able to get a ride from one of them, right?" John nodded and hugged you quickly, then fist-bumped David and left the two of you alone.

He looked at you through his sunglasses (probably) and nodded toward the door. "Wanna get out of here?" A thrill went down your spine. For a moment you had the absurd thought that this must be how a man feels when he's about to cheat on his wife. You banished that thought and vowed never to think it again.

"Sure."

You were suddenly feeling downright giddy, so you helped David into his jacket. He touched your hands as he adjusted his hood, and belatedly you remembered to move them.

The bitter chill outside sharpened everything around you. You thought it rather suited David, who hardly had any roundness to him at all. He had bones that could cut skin, and a mouth to match. He walked out ahead of you to the car, and you only felt a little bit of shame watching his hips sway with each step. He turned suddenly, and nearly caught you staring. He cocked his head. "Hey, do you mind if I drive? There's kind of a place I want to go first before heading back." 

You entertained ridiculous ideas about where David could possibly want to go at this time of night. You smiled slightly and held out your keys. "Go right ahead, David." His breath curled into smoke at the sound of his name. He took the keys without touching your hand. 

Watching David handle your car was an unexpectedly pleasant experience. He must have known how much you treasured her and so he treated her with utmost finesse. Maybe you were just enamored with the look of his fingers on the clutch.

You were also incredibly glad he had the sense to put his sunglasses on top of his head while he drove.

He headed toward the outskirts of the city, where asphalt and concrete gave way to trees and slowly rising hills. You ended up down a damp dirt road leading to a long cliff. It looked like a common place for teenage couples to drive out to be alone.

You almost laughed at the idea, until you thought that maybe he did come out here to be alone.

Once more you found yourself wishing you knew more about David. And once more you found yourself wishing you didn't want so desperately to learn more. A line had to be drawn before he got any ideas.

But then, he'd already had them on his own, didn't he?

David parked facing the lights of the city. It was really quite an interesting view, not one you usually saw. 

Your door opened and David was standing there, gesturing dramatically for you to get out. God that boy was sneaky.

"So, David, is there a reason we're all the way out of town?"

He laughed once, softly. His speech sounded nearly slurred, but you supposed that was just because he was still getting used to his new... oral adornments. "Nah, I just wanted to find a place to smoke and freeze my fine ass off all alone with my best friend's dad. Y'know, nothing special." You laughed in return. Your heart clenched. Your feelings mixed.

David slid onto the hood of your car like he owned her. You thought if it had been anyone else, you'd have bodily thrown them right off; as it was, you were just admiring the way David was stretched out. He patted a space next to you as he fished out a nearly-empty pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

Much more hesitantly, you sat closer to the front edge of the hood. You weren't too worried about David denting it since your car was an older model, and much stronger for it; and David seemed to hardly weigh anything. All the same, you weren't about to risk having two adult males directly on the hood. And if you were sitting further to the front, you wouldn't be so very tempted to continue watching David, as you had been pretty much since he arrived.

The soft flick of David's lighter felt like the only sound for miles. The moon was bright and you could see the smoke fan out from behind you as David exhaled.

You heard shuffling behind you, and David scooted into view. His feet were propped on the fender, and he laid his elbows on his knees. He offered you his cigarette. You were tempted, but you refused. You weren't afraid to admit you were a bit of a tobacco snob, and you couldn't imagine a college student would be buying very high-quality cigarettes. David shrugged and took another drag, fingers posed perfectly. You thought if smoking ads weren't so taboo these days, David would have been a very successful model. 

Silence stretched languidly between you, and eventually David finished his cigarette. He dropped it to the ground and stretched his foot to smash it into the cold wet dirt. He pulled it back up to rest on the fender again.

A tiny breeze wafted up, and the atmosphere seemed to shift slightly. Suddenly your companionable silence was turning into a solemn one. David pulled in tighter, arms clasping his elbows around his knees. He took a few deep breaths, each one shaking so slightly you weren't sure you even heard it. You moved a little closer. It was cold.

David sighed loudly, air fogging thickly in front of his mouth. He licked his lips, and the metal in his tongue clacked softly against his teeth. It was incredibly distracting.

"Sometimes I." He stopped. You turned a little more to actually face him, hoping the gesture would encourage him to continue.

"Sometimes I think, like, god, what a fucking directionless punk asshole I am." You were floored by both his language and the emotion in his voice. You said nothing. "Like I wonder what I'm even here for, what good am I? I'm just some stupid kid running around in a school he doesn't belong in, going to stupid parties and getting drunk and smoking and getting my tongue pierced. And then I come here and it's like I'm even  _more_  out of place." You wanted to step in, but you didn't dare interrupt. You were pretty sure this was the most you'd ever heard him say in one go.

"I come back here to this picture-perfect little town with John and his picture-perfect little house and his--" he raked his hand angrily through his hair, and he let out a small frustrated sound, and you felt horrible for finding that attractive.

David tried to force himself back to relative calmness. "I just... don't fuckin' belong here." His voice cracked and so did your heart. He sighed shakily.

"David... I can't pretend to know what you've really been going through." you tested your luck by placing your hand on David's (very cold) shoulder. It felt like stone covered in cloth. "But I want you to know that, for as long as you need it, you'll always have a place with me and John." You dearly hoped those were anywhere near the right words. You had no idea if they would heal or cut, and that scared you.

For a moment David's posture wavered, and you thought he was going to lean against you. He didn't, and you were a little sad about that for a number of reasons. David's jaw worked, fooling with the stud in his tongue, but he didn't speak. At length, he swallowed and looked down at his feet. "I can't take advantage of that. Of you. Or John."

Your hand stayed in place, slowly easing the chill of the cloth under your fingers.

"You know, I... I used to have a crush on him. I thought maybe that-- that he could be my anchor." He laughed dryly. "Some great idea that was. I should've known better. Should've known he'd be too flighty to even consider me."

The more you listened to David, the more you felt like your heart was breaking. 

"But then I..."

David pulled his sunglasses off with one hand, and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. The gesture seemed altogether tired, and you sympathized. You swallowed the lump in your throat and waited for David to continue.

"But then I got to know you a little. And I felt like." He exhaled, and you felt him shiver under your hand. You slowly rubbed his back, hoping it was okay for you to do it. "I felt like maybe I could just adopt myself into your family."

You'd never heard anyone sound so lost before. You wanted to hold him tight and never let go. You let your arm move around David's far shoulder, and you pulled him against you. Your own feelings aside, this young man  _needed_  someone to be there for him. David curled into you, but he didn't make any other moves to withdraw from the tight ball he pulled himself into.

"God I can't betray your trust like this." His words were so quiet you were hardly sure you'd heard them at all. "You just wanna look out for me and here I am wanting to just, fucking-- I would suck your dick. I would do it in a fucking heartbeat. Twice."

He forced himself away from you, and you let him go. "I think about you whenever I jack off. I've had dreams where I'm your fucking pet and I'm so happy in them I just--" He dug his hands into his scalp and didn't face you. "I'm so fucked up but I just can't stop thinking about--  _you_."

David looked so alone and he was only two feet away from you. You never thought you'd be both lucky and unfortunate enough to hear these words coming from him. It was a fever dream and a nightmare.

"I kissed you while you were sleeping. At Thanksgiving. I'm sorry."

You were silent. You'd reasoned that away as just a very good dream. You couldn't stop watching David tear himself apart. It hurt.

"Just... just tell me I'm a disgusting kid with daddy issues so I can just leave with a properly broken heart already."

"David...." You weren't even sure how to begin.

Suddenly you understood why David had wanted to come out here. He'd wanted to lay his soul bare for you to judge him, and he'd take that judgment and he'd leave you forever to make a new start somewhere far away.

You did not want that.

David was shivering and his breath was coming out in short, ghostly puffs. The moon was obscured by clouds, and you couldn't see at all.

"David I don't know if I have the words to...."

You took a deep breath. 

"Somehow I think you are, perhaps, trying to pull all of the guilt toward you. Like you... were the only one between us with conflicted feelings."

Moonlight returned, dim but sufficient. David was looking at you with his eyes only half hidden under his pale hair. His sunglasses were sitting cold beside him.

It was now or never. You reached out to him, your hand pushing back David's hair. He closed his eyes, bit his lip, and bowed his head a little under your hand.

You suddenly thought he would appreciate the irony if you called him an angel. His hair was soft and a little shaggy as you ran your fingers through it. "Oh David...."

He made a small, wounded sound in the back of his throat.

David threw himself at you, and you nearly went toppling over the hood but managed to plant your feet for balance. He clung to you so tightly and his face was buried in your collar, and he shook with cold or nerves or both. You kept still and quiet, held him closer than anyone had been to you in a very long time. The only sound between you was breath.

But then David's phone beeped, a tinny obnoxious melody you couldn't place. He pulled the phone out of the inner pocket of his jacket, and the screen's light was almost blinding compared to the dim visuals you had been previously enjoying. But David's face was lit up and you could see the deep set of his eyes, the shadows at the corners of his mouth. His eyes flicked up to meet yours. "It's midnight." He put the phone away. His arms went back around your neck. He was still shivering.

You very slowly, very deliberately touched David's cheek. Your fingers traced up and through his hair, until you could trace freckles under his eye (ones that you couldn't actually see but you knew were there) with your thumb. You pulled him close again and kissed him softly.

You kissed him again, and again, each time a little harder, a little more desperate. David's fingers gripped you tight, as if you would disappear if he were to let go. You tried to reassure him you wouldn't with your tongue against his.  _God, that piercing._

He was so eager against you and your palm felt so perfect at the small of his back and you had never felt so much raw passion in your whole life. David's hands clutched and grasped and pushed themselves into your hair, knocking your hat completely off. His palms felt soft against your stubble.

You stopped to breathe for a moment together, tiny white clouds mingling between you. Your thumbs rubbed idly at David's sharp hips.

"Happy new year."

David laughed breathlessly, and smiled enough to show his teeth, and you could barely see in the darkness but he was practically glowing. He kissed you again. "Ditto." He shifted against you, youthful balance keeping him from falling off your lap. "Hey um. I think I'm starting to get frostbite out here. You wanna head back?"

You picked him up almost too easily, and deposited him gently inside your car. David laughed again, voice a little raw. "God, you sure do know how to treat a lady."

You smirked and slipped your fedora back on smoothly. "Of course. I am nothing if not a gentleman." You closed his door and went around to the driver side.

You took him home, and you let him use your shower to warm up. He came out in soft (borrowed) flannel pants, looking calm and relaxed and entirely unlike the lonely boy you kissed in the cold darkness.

He pushed you back toward the bed and took almost all your clothes off, and you felt strangely humbled by his reverence. "I'm not... I'm not gonna ask you to do anything. I mean, yet. If you don't want to." The flush to his cheeks was a little splotchy and a lot endearing.

You cupped his face in your hands, grateful to see all of it for once, completely unhindered.

It almost seemed like David couldn't decide if he should meet your eyes or not, and his gaze kept flickering almost nervously about. "Heh, I always thought I'd be a whole lot smoother if I ever got this chance." You rubbed a thumb over his cheekbone.

His skin was still a little damp, and the room was cool. You pulled him against you. He felt thin, and looked it too, if the pajama pants sliding down his narrow hips were any indication. He was tall enough that you could rest your cheek against his tousle-dried hair. If you tried to list the things about David that made him perfect, you would never be able to stop. You kissed his temple.

You let him go to pull back the covers. He stood there looking almost lost until you took his hand and got him into bed with you.

You were content to take things slow, but you also understood the sometimes frantic needs of the young. You asked his permission every step of the way until he was reduced to, "God damn it just fucking touch me already, Jesus Christ!" Your hands slipped far too easily into his (your) pants even with the drawstrings tied. He arched and gasped and you felt a desperate love for him. His cry as he came sounded feral and raw and the silver glinting in his mouth was terrifyingly perfect. You kissed him soundly and let your mind wander at the possibility behind that tiny bit of metal.

The utter affection in David's face as you cleaned him off made your heart melt, and you couldn't help but to press your lips to his forehead before tossing your soiled washcloth in the hamper. You slid back into bed with him and he let you hold him close. You whispered something small and secret into his hair and he drew a stuttered breath and sighed warmly in response.

Morning came and you rose like clockwork. Despite the mere handful of hours you actually slept, you felt incredibly well-rested. David was still deeply asleep beside you, and you brushed the hair out of his eyes.

If someone had told you you would end up like this you would not have believed them. If they had told you  _now_  you still might not have.

You showered and shaved and when you came out David had stretched his arm across your warm spot, face buried in the pillow.

You let him continue sleeping while you checked on your other wayward son.

The sound of snoring coming from John's room was a pretty huge tip-off, but you poked your head in the door anyway. He was flopped over on his front with his blankets tugged messily over his shoulders. Yep, that was your son.

You went back to your room to get your heavy robe, then went downstairs and started coffee and breakfast. It didn't really matter that John and David were sleeping like the dead; they would be roused soon enough by the smells wafting up from the kitchen.

Maybe if they were good, you'd let them go back to sleep afterward. 

David was the first one down, yawning widely and rubbing his eyes with finger and thumb. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found. His (your) pants were dangerously low on his hips.

He came to stand beside you at the stove, and laid his head weightlessly on your shoulder while you cracked eggs and flipped pancakes. About a hundred of them later, you turned the burners off and dipped down to kiss David on the lips. "Good morning."

"Mm." David leaned up for more and you obliged him. You also tightened his drawstrings for him.

You watched David shuffle to the table and take his usual seat. It was always rather funny to watch young people stumbling around blearily in the morning. You poured him some coffee and set the table. 

Eventually John slid down the stairs, when the two of you were halfway done with your meal. John was slightly more energetic than David had been; or perhaps it would be better to say he was slightly less lethargic than David.

Once all of the food was consumed, John was a little more awake, and collected all the dirty dishes for you.

If he noticed David's naked eyes he didn't say anything. John stretched and his back popped; he flinched and rolled his shoulders. "Thanks for the pancakes Dad. Oh, and happy new year! Did you guys watch the ball drop on TV?"

David smirked into his coffee. You answered for him. "No, I'm afraid we just went straight to bed after getting home."

If John noticed the conspiratorial look on David's face, he didn't say anything about it, either. You managed to hide your smile behind your coffee.

"Mmm, well... I think I'm gonna go upstairs and try to wake up some more. Karif actually invited me to his new apartment so I'm gonna take him up on it before he takes it back, haha." John and David exchanged a knowing laugh. Your son smiled down at David a little longer, appraising him, and you pretended to busy yourself with rinsing off the dishes John left in the sink. "Y'know, Dave, if I didn't know any better I'd think coming back down here actually makes you," he gasped dramatically, "dare I say it... happy!"

David laughed very sarcastically. "Jonathan Egbert, when have I ever been anything but a complete ray of sunshine?" Sleep still lingered on the edges of his voice, softening it to your ears. 

John laughed at him again, and it rather amazed you how many different kinds of laughter your son could make in the mornings. "You know what I mean, Dave. And I know that you know what I mean." He jostled David's shoulder. "You're welcome to come with me, by the way. Karif sure did miss your sparkling wit." 

David just said, "Yeah right, I'll pass. I know you just want him all to yourself." They teased each other back and forth and somehow you felt lucky to watch them.

After the brief verbal skirmish was over John went back upstairs, complaining about the cold creeping in. You looked down at David, who was wearing considerably less than John's tee shirt and pajama bottoms and slippers. When you couldn't hear John's footsteps anymore you reached out to touch David's shoulder.

He jumped slightly under your touch and goosebumps broke out on his skin. "Aren't you cold, too?" David rubbed his arm to ease the bumps and to perhaps obscure the view of his hard nipples. 

"I guess." He looked down at the table. "Look, I uh...." After all the fast responses to John's jabs earlier, seeing him flounder for words was an abrupt shift. "Is it okay to want this to not be a one-time thing?" At length David looked up at you. 

It hurt to think that he assumed you wouldn't want to touch him, hold him again.

"David, I think it's going to be very difficult to resist you at all, now." You combed his hair back, indulging in everything you had been yearning to do for longer than you cared to admit. He leaned into your hand. 

"God, I don't want to go back now. How am I supposed to even focus on work when you're so far away?"

"It isn't that far." Your hand slipped to his neck. David shuddered.

"No, for real, I'm going to quit school and I'm going to be your fucking little twink housewife."

You narrowed your eyes and smiled. "You'd have to watch that filthy mouth of yours."

David groaned, leaning back and exposing his throat. His fingers clenched on his thighs. "No, don't tempt me. Oh my god." His eyes were dark and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning down to kiss him. You didn't  _want_  to stop yourself anymore.

A muted commotion came from upstairs and you moved away. David looked ready to start pouting.

You both waited to hear more, perhaps the sound of John coming back down the stairs, but you heard nothing. All the same, it might have been a good idea to consider changing locations before you ravished David on the kitchen table. You hadn't felt so thrilled in a very long time.

"Maybe we should save this for later." David nodded, licking his lips and breathing deep. 

"Yeah, wait 'til the kids are gone before Mom and Dad get all lovey-dovey and gross." He laughed once, then got up and stretched. He turned away and you followed his spine all the way down. By the time you got back to his face he was already looking at you. "I think I'm gonna have a power nap. I dunno about you but I need some rest before we tear the house apart." He made a show of licking his teeth at you, that confounded tongue stud raising your hackles in the best way.

"Goodness, David, I don't know how an old man like me is supposed to keep up with you." You hoped you weren't being too obvious about airing some of your apprehension about the huge age gap between you. When you were David's age, John had just been born. You truly had no idea what David saw in you, aesthetically.

David smirked. "Egbert you're only forty. As far as I'm concerned you're in your prime." His hand was on the doorway and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The tilt of his hips was excruciating. "Then again, I could be biased."

Like a gambler's lucky streak he disappeared.

You hoped you had at least a few more days until David returned to school.

This was going to be very interesting for the both of you.

You grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok NOW i am done. :D;;;  
> WOW, GOSH. JUST. Thanks so much to everybody for reading and enjoying and not running me out of town over this hahah.


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